Mrs. Harrington turned to ring the bell. With the sudden caprice which her money had enabled her to cultivate, she had taken a liking to Eve. "You will have some tea?" she said. Eve turned to thank her, and suddenly her heart leaped to her throat. She caught her breath, and did not answer for a moment. "Thank you," she said; and her eyes stole back to the mantelpiece, where a large photograph of Fitz seemed to watch her with a quiet, thoughtful smile. The whole room appeared to be different after that. Mrs. Harrington seemed to be a different woman--the world seemed suddenly to be a smaller place and less lonely. During the remainder of the short visit they talked of indifferent topics, while Captain Bontnor remained silent. Mrs. Harrington's caprice grew stronger, and before tea was over she said-- "My dear, if you will not come and live with me, at all events make use of me. Your uncle will, no doubt, have to make some small changes in his household. I propose that you stay with me a week or ten days, until he is ready for you." This with a slight conciliatory bow towards Captain Bontnor, who stared remorselessly at the clock. "Thank you; I should very much like to," said Eve, mindful of the mantelpiece. CHAPTER XIV. A QUATRE. There is so much that no one knows, So much unreached that none suppose. "I want you to put on a nice dress to-night. I have two friends coming to dine." Eve looked up from the book she was reading, and Mrs. Harrington tempered her curt manner of expressing her wishes with a rare smile. She often did this for Eve's benefit, almost unconsciously. In some indefinite way she was rather afraid of this girl. "I will do my best," answered Eve, her mind only half weaned from the pages. She had been ten days in the house, and the somewhat luxurious comfort of it appealed to a faintly developed love of peace and ease which had been filtered into her soul with the air of a Southern land. She had found it easier to get on with Mrs. Harrington than she at first anticipated. Her nature, which was essentially womanly, had in reality long craved for the intimate sympathy and intercourse which only another woman could supply. There was something indolent and restful in the very atmosphere of the house that supplied a distinct want in the motherless girl's life. There were a number of vague possibilities of trouble in the world, half perceived, half divined by Eve; which possibilities Mrs. Harrington seemed capable of meeting and fending off. It was all indefinite and misty, but Eve felt at rest, and, as it were, under protection, in the house of this hard, cold woman of the world. "It can only be a black one," the girl answered. "Yes; but people don't know what a black dress is until they have seen one that has been made in Spain." Eve did not return at once to her book. She was, in fact, thinking about her dress--being in no way superior to such matters.